Inside The Killer's Mind
by GoddessofSnark
Summary: Take a look inside the killers mind as Jordan and crew try to figure out who it is...
1. Prologue

A/N This is a short prologue as to what's to come...it's another one of my wonderful psychopaths (I'm allowing myself some narcissim there, I love my psychopaths. I want to take them home with me, I know they won't kill me-everyone around me, maybe, but not me) only this one has a big twist. Which, at the moment is only known by myself and my beta. Big props to her, you rock GE! I don't own any of the characters in this, they all belong to NBC and Tailwind. This takes place somewhere in season 5, I'm thinking around Justice Delayed...enjoy!

* * *

I look around at the area around me. This'll do just fine. There's no real need to bury a body. It works better if they're not buried; more animals get to the flesh. Less flesh means less of a chance that they'll catch me. The less of a chance that they'll catch me, the better. It's not like they actually catch me, but you can never be too careful.

I head back to the car, stolen, of course, and drive it away, well into New Hampshire, parking it at the train station lot. I stop along the way at a Burger King, and change back into my normal clothes, disposing of the bloodstained black in the garbage can outside and grabbing a drink.

I catch the train back to Boston, and grin, kicking back in my chair, thinking about tonight. Tonight went well, tonight went very well. No one will know it was me; I've taken every precaution possible. I can get away with it. He deserved it anyway, he deserved to die.

I pour myself a drink and toast myself, a job well done. There wasn't a lot of blood, that was a good thing. He didn't bleed that much. The less blood the better, less evidence. I don't want evidence. Evidence is bad. Evidence is just another way for them to catch me. And I'm not going to be caught. I'm too good to be caught.


	2. The First Body is Found

A/N-Right, I said I 3 my psychos. I will give a cookie to whoever guesses who the psycho is. Because I'm trying really really hard not to give him away. But I want everyone to go "WHAT THE?" And then a minute later "Why didn't I think of that?" very much like Saw...Someone that you didn't think would be the killer, and then you suddenly realise that you missed them...only well, I don't really introduce them...not like they did with Saw, I don't do a whole scene with the killer where you know that he's going to play a major plot point...

* * *

Jordan Cavanaugh looked at the body in front of her. Whoever did it had done a very good job of killing and disposing of the body. "White male, age twenty to thirty, large stab wound in the base of the skull, estimated time of death eighteen to twenty hours ago." She just clicked off the tape recorder as another form appeared in front of her.

"Any glaring evidence?" She looked up at the other man, shaking her head.

"Nope, you didn't luck out farmboy, we're going to have to take him back and see what we dig up." The detective frowned and looked around. "Only thing I can tell you is that he didn't die here." She called two CSU guys to give her a hand hoisting the body up onto the stretcher and load it into the van.

Woody stopped them as they were about to roll it in. "Hey, I know that guy!" She looked up at him with one eyebrow quirked.

"Dean Dimemmo, He was just on trial for a couple of mob hits-"

"Got off on a technicality." She frowned. She had heard about the trial. "Looks like someone else wasn't too happy that he got off scot free." Woody shook his head.

"It looks like a hit?" She shrugged. She wasn't sure yet. It was certainly a very professional job, whatever it was. The only way she'd be able to know for sure was once she cut the body open, searched for anything that could be a hint, a clue.

But right now, she was more concerned with getting into the van and driving back to the morgue. Things were still rocky at best between the detective and her, she didn't want to spend time around him if she didn't have to, she didn't want to be close to him and remember the friendship that they had had. She didn't want to think of the way that he had sent her away.

She was saved by the man's cell phone ringing. "Right, I'll get right on it." He looked at her as he hung up. "What do you think caused that wound?"

"Something large and sharp."

"Like an ice pick?" She looked at the body again and nodded.

"Couple of black and whites just found a bloody ice pick out behind a bar in Southie. Could be our weapon." She nodded and climbed into the van.

"Bring it back to the morgue, we'll compare it." The detective nodded, and she drove away, glad to be away from him.

Something about this case was nagging at her, and she didn't know why. She had just gotten it; it shouldn't be under her skin already. Not a mob boss. It was someone that very few people were going to care about. Just one more dead mobster. No big deal.

She looked down at the body again as she wheeled it into trace. "This is the infamous Deano Dimemmo?" She looked up to find Garret standing in the doorway, looking over the body. "Woody called to say he was coming in. Someone took an ice pick to him?" She nodded.

"Looks that way."

"Ouch. Tell me what you find." With that, he walked away, leaving her alone to start on the body.


	3. I'm Not a Vigilante

A/N Don't you just love psychopaths? I do! I do! VigilanteS...oops, don't want to give it away now do it? J/K I'm not gonna tell. This is fun, this is really fun to write. You think you know who it is? Odds are you're wrong. Very very wrong...unless you're one of those people like me who figure these things out in five minutes. If you figured Saw out in the first 20 minutes (Straight down to the getting up part!) and you have a guess on this one, you're probably right, if you knew the twist in Dracula from the start, then you know this...it's fun to hear your guesses though. (And I almost did make it Woody...almost.)

* * *

The gun still feels heavy in my hands as I lay it down with the body. Fitting end for the man. A drug dealer killed by his own gun. I'm doing the world a favor, that's what I'm doing. Getting rid of all these criminals. All these people that lead to deaths. Every single one of them, every one has caused a death, and every single one of them has walked away.

It's not like that's why I'm doing it though. It's nice to romanticize and act as if I'm a killer with a purpose. That I'm doing the world a favor. I am, but that's just a nice side effect. I came up with the idea to target the criminals because they have no public sympathy. No one cares if a drug dealer dies. No one cares if a rapist dies, or a murderer.

The public thinks that they got what was coming to them. And without the public breathing down the necks of Rene Walcott and the chief of police, they're less likely to want the case solved. They could care less. They're upset that these men got off. They all got off because the justice system failed them.

I'm not a vigilante though. I really could care less. It started with an accident. A bar fight gone wrong. He didn't wind up dead, but close to it. I thought that I accidentally killed him. And I liked the feeling that it gave me. To know that I had just ended someone's life. There was something that I had heard, that everyone has it in them to be a killer, given the right circumstances.

But the sane suppress that urge. Does that make me insane? I don't know. If it does then every single murderer could get off on insanity. "Sane people don't kill people. You have to be crazy to kill someone." I'm not crazy. They say if you think you're crazy than you're not.

I keep a steady job, a good job. I play golf and ski on the weekends. I'm divorced, but so is half the population. I'm not crazy. I'm just an average schmuck. It's just my hobby is frowned upon by most. It's not like I'm killing innocent people for no reason. I'm killing people who deserve to die.

And I can get away with it. No one's going to connect these two murders. No one's going to connect Danny Dimemmo to some drug dealer who made the biggest mistake of his life. I had parked for a minute, having just gotten off the phone when he jumped in my car, asking me what I wanted.

I couldn't pass up the opportunity. When he pulled his gun on me after I started, driving it was easy enough for me to send his head into the dashboard, effectively knocking him out. The few drops of blood irk me, but they cleaned up well. Besides, it's not like anyone is going to suspect me.

Then it was just a matter of putting on a pair of gloves, dragging him out of my car, shooting him and driving off, leaving the gun with him. No tie back to me. None at all. I just get back into my car and drive back to work, listening to the radio.

My last killing is all over the news. The cops said that they're trying hard, along with the ME's office. But they're not going to catch me. They keep thinking it's another mobster. They're wrong. Very, very wrong.


End file.
